The Prophetic Hour

In this dread hour for thee and all mankind
Britain, be Freedom’s fortress or her grave.
There is no middle way. Conquer and save
The world, no less: fail, and the chains that bind
Our folk shall fetter body, soul and mind
Of all men everywhere. Fateful and brave
Such fight! But if we fail? Hell’s flag shall wave
O’er Freedom’s self to nether dark consigned.
One thing is needful: turn to God, whose laws
Are everlasting. Whom we own in part,
Obey: His yoke is perfect liberty.
To Him in humble trust commit our cause
And we shall see Hell’s tyrant burst his heart
And the whole world start up, amazed, and free.

(July 1940)

Poems of War

  • Alone

    Alone to walk the dripping woods of spring
       While daisies spy you?

  • Epitaph on a New Army

    No drums they wished, whose thoughts were tied
    To girls and jobs and mother,

  • The Tunnel

    This is where the water hurries under the archway,
    This is where we enter the long tunnel,

  • Australia 1914

    Gone away, away,
    Suddenly at a word departed,

  • Come Death Suddenly

    Come death suddenly from the sea or cloud,
    With the blast of thunder and the blinding shroud,

  • If I should die

    If I should die, grieve not for youth
    Blighted, and towers of hope that fell

  • The Prophetic Hour

    In this dread hour for thee and all mankind
    Britain, be Freedom’s fortress or her grave.

  • The Jervis Bay

    ..The fifth day of November, Fifty North and Forty West,
    Was edging to its departure, like an undecided guest,

  • Christmas in Iceland

    We lay in Iceland winterbound,
    And heard the blizzard blow,

  • Stella Polaris: Homebound

    Above the great ship’s lifting bow
    I watch the Pole Star nightly stand,

  • Thermopylae

    The story, as now we see, was over-written
    By Herodotus, bless his warm Hellenic heart!

  • The Last Enemy

    Could we locate the enemy of mankind
    (I mean the GHQ, the Centre itself,

  • The Anzac Graves on Gallipoli

    You may not pass this place. Here you must stop,
    Though all the world’s great tides run heedless by

  • Last Post

    Heard how often, still the notes compel
    Unused to awe, we stand listening.